


Coming up for Air

by Plucky_Brit



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Nightmares, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:03:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plucky_Brit/pseuds/Plucky_Brit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whilst Fitz is in his coma Jemma is falling apart, and Coulson's been too preoccupied to intervene. The rest of the team come together to help their friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming up for Air

………………………………………….

Jemma looked at him. Stared at his gentle face, his pale cheeks and sunken eyes. It wasn’t right. He couldn’t do this to her. She couldn’t hold that last minute in her mind forever. That wouldn’t be the last time she would hear his voice, hear him tell her… She gasped back a sob that se/h hadn’t even realised was bubbling up. If he died it would kill her too.

Two weeks since the pod. Two weeks with him on life support, with her by his side for every second she was physically allowed. She was in hell, watching her best friend slip away. Those first few days, when he had been critical, when he had coded twice, those were the moments that came to her mind every time she closed her eyes. 

There was nothing but horror and fear left in her head. May had had to drug her the first time he coded, she wouldn’t let go of him, wouldn’t let anyone else resuscitate him, physically couldn’t let go. May had prised her hands off him, she was still weak from the pod, from her concussion and the water and everything else. The older agent had slipped the needle into Jemma’s arm before she could fight back, and she woke up in her own bed, shaking and crying, her sleep filled with images from 90 feet below the ocean. Skye had been there for her, but she could hardly look at Jemma as she shook her awake, tears in her own eyes. She told her he was still alive, and she returned to her vigil beside him, where she’d been ever since.

She heard the scuff of shoes against the metal floor and suddenly realised she wasn’t the only one in there. Strange. It was the middle of the night, 3am to be precise. She sat up in her chair, and looked around, tightening her grip on Fitz’s hand as a reflex. Coulson was standing there.

“Simmons.” He spoke her name softly, the word filled with emotion. She could see the pain in his eyes as he looked past her, at the lifeless body of Fitz.

“Sir, it’s late… is everything alright? Can I help you with something?” She said in a steady voice, quietly proud that she was keeping herself together. 

He smiled softly at her. “There’s no problems Jemma, I just wanted to see him, and you. The base is a very different place without you both.” 

He looked at her, so young and in so much pain. She was a shell of the smiling, generous, friendly agent from two weeks ago. She was so much skinnier, and he had heard from Skye just how hard it was to get to eat anything. It was like she couldn’t focus her attention on anything except her friend, and it was draining the life from her. Her face was so pale, her eyes nearly as sunken as Fitz’s. He took a deep breath, devastated to see how broken she was, and overwhelmed with guilt at how little care he had taken of her over the last two weeks, too busy dealing with Hydra to focus on much else, trying to think about anything other than Fitz and his uncertain future. It was time to change that.

“Jemma” he said again, his brow creasing in concern. “I can’t keep letting you do this to yourself. You’re pushing everyone away; you’re hurting yourself and its not doing anyone the tiniest bit of good, including Fitz. I know you want to be there for him but if you keep this up you’re going to need your own hospital bed…” he broke off suddenly as Jemma’s face crumpled, her carefully constructed façade shattering.

She looked away from him, back to the hand she was grasping, tears spilling unwelcome down her cheeks, her chest exploding as she tried to hold back the sobs. She was aware of his arms around her, of her boss embracing her and holding her, keeping her from disintegrating entirely.

“We’re here Jemma,” he whispered into her ear, tightening his hold around her terrifyingly skeletal frame. “You will never be alone, I promise.” 

“It’s my fault,” she whispered into his shoulder, finally spilling out the words that had been taking over her mind for the past fortnight. “He gave me the last breath. He trusted me to get him out and I didn’t swim fast enough, I didn’t get him out in time and he’ll never be the same and it’s on me.” She choked the words out in between sobs that shook her entire body.

“No. Jemma. No one thinks that and it’s not true. Whatever happens, you did all you could, all that was physically possible.” His heart was breaking as he felt her guilt and loneliness and belief in what she was saying spill out, and all he could do was hold her, scant comfort but the best that was available. He was unsure how much time passed before he felt her relax against him, her breath steadying into the soft rise and fall of sleep. Only then did he relax his grip, gently moving her head against the chair as he stood up.

He heard a gentle cough from the door and looked up to see May standing in the shadows. 

“May.” He said, acknowledging her presence. 

“I think you should put her in a bed Phil, a real bed, I don’t think she’s slept more than three hours at a time since I sedated her.” May looked sadly at Jemma.

“I know.” Phil nodded and carefully lifted the sleeping girl in his arms, realising as he did so how much weight she had lost. With May leading the way they left the medical bay, shutting the door and leaving Fitz in peace. May guided Coulson back to the team’s rooms, punching in the code to Jemma’s door and taking in the spotless room before walking to the bed and pulling back the covers so that Coulson could lay her down. She then carefully pulled them back over her before tenderly stroking away a strand of hair that had fallen across Simmons’ face.   
“Let’s go.” She said to Phil. “I’ll keep an eye on her, she won’t wake up alone.” She added, seeing the hesitation on his face as he didn’t want to leave her. 

Once they were back in the corridor the two older agents looked at each other. “I’ve been talking to Bobbi about her.” May said to him, and he raised his eyebrows at May’s unusual show of emotion.

The look she gave him in response would have made the Hulk feel guilty. “Don’t look like that. You know I care Phil. I don’t think any of us can begin to understand what she’s suffering at the moment. Bobbi and Skye have been trying to get her to eat but she’s hardly touched anything. I think Bobbi is ready to put her on a drip just to keep her hydrated. You saw how much weight she’s lost.” 

And then Phil saw a change in her eyes as what she’s been waiting to say finally spilled out. “AND WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? Your team is broken Phil, totally broken, and you’ve been locked up in your office doing nothing, nothing that you should have been doing.” She half shouted the sentence, feeling her blood raging as she finally said the words the needed to say.

“May, I’m the director now, I need to…” Coulson tried to defend himself weakly as the small woman turned on him.

“NO.” she shouted. “They needed you. They all did, and you turned your back on them. S.H.I.E.L.D is a shadow of what it used to be, there’s hardly any of us left, and we’ve stood by you through it all. But when we need you to stand by us, you shut yourself off.” She glared at him, anger and disappointment radiating from her. Then she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Coulson in the dark corridor.

May took herself off to her own room, punching commands into the computer so she could see Jemma, who was still sleeping, just as they had left her. Then she reduced the screen and brought up the sleeping pods of the rest of the team, including Fitz. Satisfied all was well as she noted Coulson now asleep in the chair which usually contained Jemma, resting against Fitz’s bed, she could finally relax. She had a feeling that balance would be restored to the base and that Coulson had finally snapped out of his own haze. With the adrenaline still coursing through her system from their confrontation she was never going to sleep now, and instead she began to tape up her hands, preparing to vent her unspent rage on the punching bag that she’d had Mack hang in her room. The rest of the base slept.

\---------

Jemma was in the grip of a nightmare. Once more she was in the pod beneath the sea, her world imploding around her as the door exploded and the water rushed in. She was clutching Fitz, who was unconscious and bleeding and so, so lifeless. Then she was swimming up and up and up and she was never going to make it and she opened her mouth to scream and the water rushed in and someone was shouting at her and she could feel strong hands on her shoulders, pulling her deeper in the water. She fought hard against them, lashing out on the invisible arms and then… suddenly she was painfully aware of her surroundings, not under water, not in the pod, but in her own room in the base. May was there, sporting a rather swollen eye and in sudden horror Jemma realised that the must have lashed out when May tried to wake her… the arms that were pulling her must have been May’s.

“Oh gosh. Agent May, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… I thought…” she trained off, struggling to explain what had been going through her head.

May shook her head. “Don’t be sorry Jemma, I shouldn’t have underestimated your strength! You were having a nightmare and shouting out, and I thought you might hurt yourself if I left you.” 

Jemma nodded slowly, trying to shake the last of the ocean from her mind. “Thank you.” She whispered gratefully. “Um, what time is it?”

“Just gone nine. I don’t think you’ve slept this long since the… incident.” May hesitated before saying it, unsure of how Jemma would react.

“Oh.” Was all that slipped out. “I… I think I’d better be getting back to Fitz now.” Jemma slid her legs out of the bed, not looking at May.

“No.” She sounded harsher than she meant to, and Jemma flinched at the coldness. “Not until you’ve had something to eat Simmons. Bobbi and Skye are going out of their minds trying to get you to eat. You shouldn’t put them through that. They are coping with Fitz’s situation too.”

“Okay.” Jemma whispered, trying to fight the tears that were building. She couldn’t bear all the pain that was around them, and to think that she was making people feel worse was so wrong, so against her nature. Slowly she stood up, aware that she was still in the clothes she was wearing yesterday. She glanced at May and the older women gave a rare smile. 

“I’ll let you get ready. See you in the kitchen.” She left the room quickly.

Jemma took a deep breath, her head only spinning slightly. Clothes. She could do that. She took several tentative steps over to her wardrobe and pulled it open, reaching for the first items she saw: a plain grey t-shirt and black jeans.   
Once dressed she made her way out into the hall, ready to go to the kitchen, resting a hand on the wall to help her gently spinning head.

“Jemma!” She jumped at the sound of her name, turning to see Skye walking towards her from her room, a concerned expression on her face, an expression that gave Jemma a stab of guilt. She didn’t want to concern anyone. The problem was that she really was feeling very lightheaded now. She couldn’t think when the last time she’d walked any distance at all, and when was the last time she ate… God, she really was a mess, and she didn’t want Skye to see and to worry.

“Hi Skye.” She replied softly. “I was just going to meet May in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” Skye said. “That’s good. Do you need…” Skye hesitated before continuing, reluctant to hurt her friend, but she really was worried about how pale the young girl before her seemed, and how she seemed to be leaning against the wall for support. “… Jemma, I’m sorry but you look really awful. Let me help you.” She finished, and to her horror saw Simmons’ eyes fill with tears.

“I’m pathetic Skye.” Jemma whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just, I feel so empty. It’s like something’s been ripped from me and I don’t know who I am any more. There’s no Simmons without Fitz and I can’t even begin to think about anything else. I didn’t mean to worry you guys.” She broke off as Skye swept her into a hug, holding her tightly. 

“Don’t apologise Jemma. I can’t begin to understand how awful this is. Just let us help you okay?” 

Jemma let a tiny smile slip out, the first Skye had seen in a long time. “Okay.” 

Simmons let the word slip out, and the instantly the impossible weight that had been squeezing her so tightly slowly began to dissipate. It wasn’t gone, but it was less. 

Maybe she could do this after all.  
..............................................................

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
